Problematic

 It's apparently been over a year since I have tried to write something personally. But, it's probably been way longer than that since I felt like writing a diary. And, the last time I tried writing creatively was definitely in the early 2020s.  Overall, I've shrunk.  Yet, I have been privately, constantly, been screaming. I have been spending so much of my time trying to insert myself in conversations and places in the name of taking up space. In therapy today I said that I didn't want to leave my job because I was worried if I didn't stand up to a workplace bully that there would be people who would have to deal with them after me. Do I really have to be the person fighting any particular fight though? Does anyone even really want me to? Who is asking me to do this beyond a previous version of myself that didn't realize this was a fight I would be in? If I'm being honest, I think I mostly act out of self interest. And I think people can smell it. The vibes...

 Love is Blind got crazy.  Spoilers for everything: If you haven't seen Saltburn, you should, if only to earn the last two minutes of Barry Keoghan dancing naked. It really is iconic. I have not been out dancing since before the PANDEMIC and MY ANXIETY IS HIGH. I mostly don't know how to be in public spaces. I am going out for a Saltburn emo disco. I better not see you there. My fervent hope is that because it has a $10 cover it will be slightly less crowded. I have planned an outfit I hope lives up to the spirit of scandal. Anyway, back on Love is Blind, I finally figured out these mostly square mostly white people are from North Carolina, which does make those facts make more sense. One of the things I hope to never forget was this guy telling his fiancee that if she "got out of shape" he would tell her to go to the gym. Unsurprisingly, this man did not say yes. I feel like she's going to take him back because she clearly has low self-esteem. I say this as game ...

 Love is Blind is what I am watching right now. It's scratching a morbid itch. I appreciate the neediness. I recognize it inside myself. The level of desperation that wants someone to choose them and also wants to have, potentially, the adoration of all Netflix subscribers. I remember the age I wanted to be famous. Sometimes I still dream of writing something so interesting and insightful I am catapulted into the spotlight as I assume Lena Dunham felt when she called herself the voice of our generation. Or whatever. Don't quote me on quoting her on that. I'm probably still at the age as well where I want someone to become obsessed with me. Yet, I'm also at an age where I feel deeply judgmental about this unhinged behavior in other people. I have a weird habit of repotting my plants without gardening gloves. So I have dirt under my nails. After getting ringworm from Little Gray Cat when she came inside, I realize that I am playing with ringworm fire. As with most things,...

 Wow. It's been a really long time. I have 4 cats now. Still one boyfriend. 2 mostly virtual friends. 2 friends IRL, but at least 1 wants to leave. A job I possibly hate because I don't know where I fit in or how to be effective. It's probably been over a year since I had 5 friends. I grow more and more concerned that I cannot genuinely connect with the people I used to love. Even if we have similar political views we handle them in different ways. We have very different problems even though we're in ostensibly similar periods of life.  My life now is trapping and caring for community cats, and being equal parts over involved and flaking out on the community. Who even is the community? I think before the pandemic my friends were my community. I lived myopically. My vague sense of purpose to make things better in some undetermined way. I'd figure it out as I grew up, I guess. But now I am growing up, and the way to make a difference has never been so opaque. Around 1...

 I'm watching a Korean drama about a man who has been living a lie and I feel like I'm drowning. The depths of my lack in direction and success are boundless. I'm almost certain I'm headed toward a point where only two people and four cats truly want to be around me. Even then I'm sure two of the cats could take it or leave it.  I buy imaginary things and crave boba tea constantly. Pretending small indulgences don't add up seems to be the only way I know how to survive and it's sure to kill me eventually.  I've been 35 for two months and a college graduate for two years. I have this elevator pitch about it. I talk all the time about not having the guidance to navigate higher education and how much it made me value educational equity. I'm always mentioning how my parents didn't teach me Spanish because they didn't want me to be discriminated against. Now I mention community building and community meetings every chance I get. Everyone at work i...

I think I might finally be at the point in my life where I am ready to be loved. It's also one of the points I have felt most isolated. I have felt so inauthentic. I'm no longer prepared to be honest. I have so little to lose at this point in my life, but everything feels so much more shameful. Everything seems to have so much more weight as I'm aging. I'm going to be an age soon I previously couldn't imagine wanting to live to see. And I've accomplished none of the fantastical things I thought would make dying a young artist romantic. I don't even make art anymore. Motivation is a rare find. In many ways I'm losing my voice. I haven't been able to sing because I have spent so much of the last few years throwing up and letting allergies close my throat. Finding notes is a struggle. I'm not sure what the point would be to finding a vocal coach besides my own happiness. Happiness is such a foreign concept I can't entertain it as a real reason t...

 I went to therapy recently. Friday, specifically. I also bleached and dyed my hair. That happened earlier. I feel like that was more impactful on my declining mental health. It did take a few tries though. I went through a couple of cycles of bad dye before landing on Manic Panic, which I had never tried before. It bleeds out every time I shower, but the color still seems pretty bright and closer to what I was envisioning. Anyway, my girl group has broken up. I think? Kind of. For all practical purposes at least, at the moment. I don't think it can be narrowed down to any one moment. It doesn't seem to be anyone's fault. It seems over the course of the pandemic we found ourselves in very different places in life. A few friends lost really important people lately. It was hard enough to get everyone together before, but there doesn't seem to be a lot of room for scheduling around grief and tragedy. We all have very different habits now. It felt very rare we were all up t...